


Mix It With Love and Make The World Go Round

by alrightprincess (princessofgriffindor)



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Minor Wells Jaha/Raven Reyes/Gina Martin, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-26
Updated: 2016-04-26
Packaged: 2018-06-04 17:40:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6668137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princessofgriffindor/pseuds/alrightprincess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Clarke gets a whole lot more than a job when she starts working at Cafe Delinquent.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mix It With Love and Make The World Go Round

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ficexchangebitches](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ficexchangebitches/gifts).



> A/N Well this turned out to be kind of big oops

When Clarke applies for a job at the small coffee shop on campus, she has two things in mind.

1\. She needs a fresh start of sorts, something that’s hasn’t been tarnished by Finn.  
2\. She’s a college student, she always needs money.

The chance of finding her soulmate definitely wasn’t on the list.

Honestly, finding her soulmate has never been on any list.

There are over seven billion people on the Earth at this very moment. What are the odds that she will ever meet her soulmate, assuming they are alive at the same time as her? Because Clarke has never liked probability, the answer is very, very small.

But of course there is more in play than just chance. These are **soulmates** we’re talking about, after all. There’s gotta be a little fate in the game.

August

Clarke starts dating Finn in August. She meets him at some frat party and they hit it off right away. He’s nice, charming, cute, and reasonably intelligent.

The first time you and your soulmate touch, a mark is supposed to appear on your skin, where you touched.

The first time he touches her is when he kisses her, and she doesn’t feel anything. Yes, she’s happy and it was nice, but it wasn’t…electric. The kiss was empty. There was nothing and there are no marks on her lips.

She doesn’t dwell on it, after all, she didn’t expect him to be her soulmate anyways.

September

College starts and she’s caught up in a whirlwind of homework and romance. It’s pretty great, she thinks. Not a bad life at all. Freshmen year of college is going pretty great.

Then three weeks into September, she and Finn are making out and they stumble into his bedroom, as they usually do.

Except this time, it’s occupied.

A gorgeous Latina wearing bright red lingerie is lying casually on the bed. When Clarke and Finn stumble into the bedroom, in the middle of passionate making out, her mouth falls open.

“Finn?” Her voice sounds vulnerable and Finn looks like he’s sucking on something sour. His guilty expression gives it away and Clarke wants to puke.

Clarke shoves him away from her and runs out of the room, out of Finn’s dorm, and away from Finn.

That’s how she finds out she was the other woman.

She spends the rest of September avoiding Finn, ignoring his pleading apologies, and trying not to think about how the other woman must be feeling.

October

She decides she needs to stop moping in October.

She picks herself up and throws herself into schoolwork. When she’s left with extra time, she decides to find a job.

One rainy day, she ducks into the campus coffee shop, ironically named “Café Delinquent”.

There’s a “Now Hiring” sign on the counter and she applies without hesitation.

That’s when something life-changing happens: She gets the job.

Getting a part-time job while a broke college student isn’t exactly life-changing, normally. It can be, but it usually isn’t.

But for Clarke, who spent the first two months of freshmen year hiding from a horribly failed relationship, not making any friends, and being completely antisocial, it most certainly is.

She had Wells, but he, being a stupidly annoying person, had friends and a life, and even though they try to Skype at least once a week, they end up texting a lot.

It’s good but it’s not the same as actually having a friend with you physically.

She walks in on the day she’s been told to come in for training and goes up to the counter.

A cheerful Asian boy, wearing a name tag reading “Weed” is standing behind the counter.

“Hey, how can I help you?” He asks.

Clarke puts a smile on her face and wow, it feels weird.

“Actually, I was told to come now for training? I’m the new employee.”

Weed (what kind of name is that?) nods and says “Oh! You must be Clarke.” She nods and he says “Come on back. I’m Monty. I’ll be your trainer.”

Clarke’s face must show her confusion because Monty immediately follows up with, “The name tags are an inside joke. You’ll get yours when we come up with a nickname for you.”

He yells at a scrawny boy serving a customer. “Hey Jasper! Handle the front, the newbie’s here!”

Jasper shoots two thumbs up at Monty while ringing up a customer and says “Knock her dead, Greenmachine. Actually, don’t. Because that…would be bad.” His name tag says “Goggles”.

Monty rolls his eyes affectionately and motions for Clarke to follow him into the back.

He hands her an apron and says “Rule number one, wear the apron unless you want to be covered in stains and smell like coffee. And by smell, I mean exude an aura of coffee. Trust me, once I didn’t wear my apron for like an hour and I spent the next week being followed around by caffeine-deprived college students. A couple even followed me into the bathroom!”

Clarke laughed at his wide eyed, emphatic expression. She took the apron and strapped it around her waist.

“So you’re going to be working the closing shift, so I’m going to also show you how to clean the machine and wipe the tables and all the cleaning and locking up shit. But first, let me show you the art of coffee-making.”

An hour later, Clarke was pretty sure she would be able to write her dissertation on coffee, if she so chose.

Monty clapped his hands together. “Alright, now comes the fun part! You get to give it a shot!”

Clarke’s throat goes dry, all of a sudden.

Monty must have noticed her expression because he said, “Don’t worry, you’re going to do great. You’re a natural, I can just tell. Plus, you’ve been trained by the best in the business! I’ll be right by you for the first couple.”

Clarke nodded and steeled herself. “Let’s go kick some ass.”

“That’s the spirit!”

Six successful customers later, Clarke was feeling pretty good about herself. The rush was lulling down and she only had one more customer to serve.

Monty had grinned at her two customers ago and had said “You’ve got that hang of this! I’m going to head into the back and do some inventory. I think Jasper’s on his break, so holler if you need me.”

Clarke had replied an “okay” as she made a latte.

“Can I help you?” she directed her attention at the customer.

He was an attractive looking guy and he looked not much older than her. He looked at her as though assessing her and Clarke had to amend her previous statement. He was hot.

Were those…freckles?

“Hopefully.” He smirked, very amused with himself.

He rattled out a ridiculously fast “ Venti, half-whole milk, one quarter 1%, one quarter non-fat, extra hot, split quad shots, no foam latte, with whip, 2 packets of Splenda, 1 sugar in the raw, a touch of vanilla syrup and 3 short sprinkles of cinnamon.”

Clarke lost him after “hot”. Actually, if she was being entirely honest, it was more like "milk".

“Sorry, what?”

She was pretty sure he was judging her.

No, she could feel him judging her.

She bristled.

She was pretty sure he was making a quiet “tsk” sound.

He said it again, faster than before, if possible.

“Sorry, can you slow down please?”

Now he was definitely tsk-ing. “The quality of service in this place has gone down to the dumps.”

Clarke gritted her teeth. What an asshole!

He repeated his order slow enough so that she could actually hear it, but she still had no idea what half of it meant.

She yelled a quick “Monty?” and stuck her head in the back, but there was no reply and no sign of Monty anywhere.

“Tick tock, princess. Some of us have places to be!” said the asshole from the counter.

Fuck this asshole, she was going to make him the best damn drink he had ever tasted.

She grit her teeth and grabbed a venti cup.

Ok, so a venti latte with no foam made of half whole milk, a quarter 1%, and a quarter…nonfat?

What else did he say?

Fuck it, she was going to make him her favorite latte because her latte was, without doubt, the best one in existence.

As she puttered around behind the counter, she could feel him watching her.

Ignore, ignore, ignore!

She made sure the latte was extra foamy. She held out his finished latte at the counter, with a forced smile. “Your drink.”

His eyebrows were raised as he accepted the drink from her. She waited as he took a slow, cautious sip.

“This isn’t what I ask for.” His voice was chilly.

“It’s not. It’s better .” She set her jaw. Two can play a game.

“I demand that you give me a full refund and remake my latte as I ordered it, right now.”

“No.” Clarke was not going to budge and let this asshole win. “Not until you, oh, I don’t know, treat other people with even the slightest bit of basic respect.”

“I refuse to accept such treatment from a glorified waitress. I want to speak to your manager immediately.”

“And I refuse to provide you with the services from this business. Get out. And don’t bother coming back.”

The asshole’s mouth twitched.

All of a sudden, Monty appeared.

“Bellamy? What are you doing here?”

Bellamy? What? Did Monty know this asshole?

Newly christened Bellamy nodded at Monty (an act of familiarity!) and asked “Getting to know the new barista. Who’s the princess?” with a little head jerk to refer to her.

“Bellamy, this is Clarke Griffin. Clarke, this is Bellamy.” Clarke crossed her arms and glared at Bellamy.

“Griffin? As in, Senator Griffin? When I said princess, I didn’t mean actual princess.” Bellamy’s tone was harsher. “What’s a princess doing working as a barista? Getting to know the commoners?”

Clarke’s nostrils flared. “Monty, who the hell is this asshole?”

Bellamy replied instead of Monty with an unbearably smug smirk.

“Welcome to Café Delinquent, princess. I’ll be your shift partner for the foreseeable future.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The first shift is unbearable .

The tension is palpable and Clarke pretty much wants to constantly bash his face into the wall.

He keeps bumping into her , making her spill things, including one latte all over her shirt, and drop things and otherwise slowing her down.

Whenever she needs something, he’s already using it, and when he realizes she needs it, he uses it ever so slowly.

Whenever she does anything wrong, he’ll slip in some assholish ("They should make that a word just for him," Clarke thinks) snarky comment, never mind that it’s her first shift!

And they argue over every little thing . She’ll be making friendly conversation with a customer and he’ll go out of his way just to contradict her and piss her off.

She was making a latte and he was critiquing her method, so of course she had to counter. It escalated from there and it got so intense that he basically scared away the customer.

Clarke is not a super violent person, but she wants to smack him across the face to make him shut up.

A tiny voice in the back of her head said, "Well, there are  _other_ ways to shut him up."

Wait, what? Where the fuck did that come from?

Her evil little subconscious replied, "Oh come on Clarke. Stop pretending you haven’t thought about it. He’s very attractive, it’s perfectly natural. I mean the _freckles_ , the _eyes_ , the _lips_ , and oh goodness, those _hands_."

She shook her head really hard to clear those thoughts away and said “Shut up, you.”

Naturally, Asshole McAsshole hears her and brushes past her, smirking. “First sign of insanity.”

She flips his back off.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

And that’s how the next three or so weeks go by.

All of a sudden, it’s Halloween and Clarke has always loved Halloween.

Costumes, candy, and carving of pumpkins. What’s not to love?

The café is decked out in banners, pumpkins, fake cobwebs (some real ones too), plastic bugs, and broomsticks, and other Halloween-y shit, and she loves it.

These are all well-known, expected Halloween norms.

What she doesn’t expect, is the mass of people who want coffee on Halloween night.

In retrospect, it makes sense, but the vast number of college students who just want to party all night long, parents who need caffeine to survive the night, and small costumed children coming to trick-or-treat is overwhelming.

That night, something shifts between her and Bellamy.

There’s a shit load of people and they all need to be served and fast .

She and Bellamy work in unison, communicating through looks, hand gestures, and the occasional conversation, if they have time to breathe.

It’s going great. The coffee shop is packed, but together they are just knocking out orders like a freaking machine and getting a hell lot of tips.

And then a little ghost starts crying.

The little ghost was standing by the counter, when all of a sudden she started yelling out, “Mommy? Mommy!”

Clarke and Bellamy’s heads both snap towards the kid.

“Shit. I got her, you keep going.” Bellamy heads straight to the kid, steps around the counter, and kneels down by her.

Clarke can hear him while she flies around like a headless chicken, balancing orders.

“Hey.” His voice is gentle. “You okay?”

The girl keeps bawling. “Do you need help?” The girl nods.

“I’m going to help you. It’s going to be just fine. I’ve got you. Alright come here.” He gently picks her up, like she weighs nothing, and carries her around the counter. He sets her down so that she’s sitting on top of the counter and offers her a cookie.

She quiets, but continues to sniffle. “You need to find your mom, huh? Can you tell me what she looks like?”

The little girl’s response is too quiet for Clarke to hear.

“Oh, okay then, I’ll just look for the most beautiful woman, then.” He jokes softly.

Clarke’s pretty sure she’s not imagining it, when his eyes go straight to her and linger on her for just a moment too long.

There’s a little break coming in the ever flowing rush of customers and Clarke hurries over to Bellamy.

Bellamy moves to the side so that they are standing side by side in front of the girl.

“Hey.” Clarke smiles at the little girl. “I’m Clarke. What’s your name?”

“Fox.” Her voice is heartbreaking as she says, “Do you know where my mommy is?”

When Clarke doesn’t answer, the little girl starts crying again.

Clarke hugs her gently. “Hey, sweetheart, we’re going to find your mom. I promise. It’s going to be alright.” She soothes her gently.

The little girl cuddles into Clarke and keeps crying. Clarke looks at Bellamy and tilts her head, asking an unspoken question.

_What’d she say about her mom?_

He shrugs.

**Not much.**

She twists her hands, gesturing to their surroundings.

_Do we know where her mom could be or how to get to her?_

He lowers his hand to his waist to represent...little people? Oh, little siblings!

**Mom probably got distracted by her little brothers.**

She quirks an eyebrow.

_Brothers?_

He holds up three fingers.

**Yeah. Three of them.**

She makes an impressed face.

_Damn._

Bellamy shrugs again, but his expression reads helplessness.

**I think we’re just going to have to wait until the mom shows up.**

Clarke points on finger at the kid and another at the counter, with a line of waiting customers.

_We’ll have to keep her distracted until then and take care of the customers._

Bellamy nods decisively and then, tilts his head towards the customer and points from Fox to her.

**I’ll get the customers, you get the kid?**

She flashes him a thumbs up.

_Sure._

He makes a quick okay sign with his hand.

**Okay.**

Bellamy heads over to take care of the customers and Clarke continues gently rocking Fox. Her cries eventually quiet down and Clarke says, “How about you and I do some drawing until your mom shows up?”

The girl sniffles and nods.

“Alright then.”

Clarke grabs a couple washable markers. “How do you feel about tattoos, hm?”

One flower and one elephant tattoo later, Fox’s mom shows up while Fox is drawing a blue flower on Clarke’s arm.

The mom looks like she could cry from relief. “Oh my god, Fox!”

Fox’s head snaps up and she pretty much leaps into her mom’s arms. “Mommy!”

Fox’s mom looks at Clarke and says, “Thank you so, so, so much! I really can’t say thank you enough. I’m so sorry. My husband had to work today, but I wanted the kids to have a fun Halloween, and oh my god, thank you.”

She leaves a $20 tip and the opportunity to start a priceless relationship behind.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

When Clarke comes into work on November 1st, there’s a name tag on her apron. It reads “PRINCESS” in big block letters with a little crown over the “I” in handwriting she sees every day, written on dozens of plastic cups.

November

Things at the coffee shop have changed.

Silences are more comfortable and now she and Bellamy engage in kinda sort of friendly-ish banter. At least, there’s less of a harsh edge to it.

And because they’re both ultra-competitive, they have mini competitions, but it feels less like Clarke needs to prove herself.

It’s actually kind of fun and she’s started really looking forward to her shift.

During the first week of November, Monty shows up during her shift and makes himself comfortable at a counter seat.

He rests his elbows on the counter, and looks at her expectantly.

She waits. He’s going to say something and he intends to be very dramatic about it.

Bellamy is somewhere in the back, puttering around.

“So,” Monty starts.

Clarke raises an eyebrow. “The suspense is killing me.”

He allows himself a grin and then he spits it out. “Since you are o-f-f-i-c-i-a-l-l-y officially a member of the café crew, refer to name tag,” He nods at her nametag with a little shit-eating grin, “You get to participate in staff activities!”

“Staff. Activities.” Well, this should be good.

“It’s good for bonding. Plus Jasper and I make some hardcore booze and Octavia’s a lot of fun and Miller, well Miller’s great, and Murphy’s fun to laugh at and Monroe and Harper usually just laugh at the rest of us, while Bellamy is off being a grump in the corner and complaining about the Library of Alexandria, but a drunk grump. It’s great! 11 of 10 would recommend.”

Bellamy yells, from somewhere, very clearly _not_ eavesdropping, “Do you know how much more progress humanity could have made by now if the stupidass Caesar hadn’t burned it down? There was so much knowledge stored there?”

Clarke laughs. “You’ve convinced me!”

Clarke had been convinced when Monty said “staff activities”. Wells has been on her case to “be social” and “make friends” and “try new things”. He probably didn’t mean “hardcore booze”, but he’d probably support anything that got her out of the dorm at this point.

Monty grinned. “Excellent! Our next thing is this Saturday! From 6 to well, whenever it ends. Group Netflix and chill, without the orgy. Unless that’s your thing…in which case, we’ll make it work.”

Clarke rolled her eyes affectionately. “Million dollar question, where is it?”

“Give me your phone.” Clarke pulls it warily out of her pocket, unlocks it, and hands it to him.

He puts himself in as a contact and texts himself a “Monty is the supreme god” and says “I’ll text you the address!”

“Monty is the supreme god? So original.”

“You’re going to fit right in. Octavia’s going to love you.” Monty has that shit-eating grin on his face again, but Clarke gets too distracted by a customer to ask.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

So you’re going to an orgy and you’re not even dressing up?

_Wow, Wells, I would have thought you would have been worried that they’re actually mass murderers, but nooooooooo_

At this point, I’m just happy you’re making friends…even if they’re inducting you into a group orgy.

Just be safe, you know condoms and STDs and shit.

_“And shit” I feel like that would be very uncomfortable in an intimate situation…_

Oh ykwim also send me pics I wanna know if theyre hot

_Wow I feel exploited_

Hey if youre gonna get laid I wanna know if theyre hot. You know, kind of live through you even tho lbr that sounds creepy

_Ur gross. Also im gonna be late and its gonna be all ur fault :)_

Well get off your lazy ass and get over to that group mating

Im gonna stop texting you now

_But what if I neeeed moral suppooort_

_U gotta staaay_

_Oh fine_

_U suck_

_If I die its ur fault_

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Clarke stands in front of the door to an apartment for a minute.

It looks like a perfectly normal apartment and she can hear music blasting inside.

She takes a deep breath and, fuck it, raps on the door with her knuckles.

The door swings open right away and the guy who was with Monty her first day says “Hey! You’re Clarke, right?” and then without waiting for an answer, “It’s great that you showed up! Plus, the booze today is extra amazing, Monty got it mango-flavored!”

His cheery demeanor, loud expressiveness, and casual, easy small talk puts Clarke right at home and Clarke grins without thinking about it.

“I’m Jasper, by the way,” he leads her into a sitting room with a lot of people, and if it weren’t for the fact that Monty is the first person she sees, she would have already made a run for it.

“Alright, so let me introduce to you, ze gang. Oh and fun fact, our gang name is “The Delinquents” cause it sounds badass and all of us, well everyone except Octavia, but she almost lives there, work at la café.” Jasper grins, taking a drink.

"Jasper is literally the only person who uses _his_ own nickname for the group, so no pressure." Monty deadpans.

He points his drink at the respective individual as he names each person. “So in order, from left to right, Monty the green bean, Miller the silent brooding hipster, Monroe the crazy braids, Harper the crazier braids, Murphy the trash fave, and Octavia the multicolored butterfly.”

Miller, who’s sharing the loveseat with Monty, is dark-skinned and wearing a beanie, and gives a tiny nod of acknowledgement

Monroe’s hair is indeed braided and she rolls her eyes at her introduction. She and Harper are both sitting on the floor.

Harper grins and flashes a peace sign.

Murphy, leaning against the wall with his eyes closed, opens his eyes, looks at her critically with eyes dripping of cynicism, and closes them again.

Octavia, who is sitting on the couch, grins the widest of all and winks.

Octavia yells out, “Also known as the better Blake!”

“Speaking of Blake, the other one is lurking around somewhere.” Monty chimes in.

“Looking for some, as he calls it, “less shitty alcohol”” Harper makes air quotation marks.

“Monty and I take offense at that!” Jasper quips and plops down on the ground at Monty’s feet.

“Forget my brother! Clarke, come sit by and regale me with tales of you kicking my brother’s butt and I can tell you embarrassing baby stories.”

“O, you weren’t even born when I was a baby.” Bellamy’s voice comes from very close by, right behind Clarke.

He’s leaning against the wall, smirking, in a very tight black shirt.

Octavia waves it off. “Minor details, who cares?” She scoots over on the couch and pats the space beside her.

Clarke plops down beside her.

Octavia leans forward,”Okay so did you, or did you not make my brother a different drink then what he asked for and then dump it all over his head?”

Clarke laughs, “I did make him the wrong drink, but I haven’t dumped anything on his head. Yet.”

Octavia joins in and something unclenches in Clarke’s gut.

“Okay, I’m going to braid your hair while we talk because your hair is gorgeous and it’s killing me, alright, great! Glad we settled that!"

As Octavia immerses her in conversation about this new dystopian TV show where a bunch of teenagers get dropped on post-apocalyptic earth, she sees Bellamy sit down next to Miller out of the corner of her eye.

She’s pretty sure she can feel his gaze burning into her as his sister is braiding his hair, but that doesn’t matter when Jasper steps in and yells, “Alright, which Harry Potter are we watching?”

(“We have to start from the first or else it’s SACRILEGE” yells Monty)

(“Are you kidding me? We all know the fourth one’s the best! Dragons, anyone?” Octavia yells back)

(“I say the fifth one.” Murphy says with a smug smile, without offering an explanation.)

(When Clarke raises an eyebrow in question, Harper explains, “It’s because he likes seeing us in pain, with SIRIUS DYING. HONESTLY, HOW UNFAIR IS THE WORLD? SIRIUS SPENDS 12 YEARS IN AZKABAN THEN LIKE THREE IN HIDING, AND THEN DIES EVEN THOUGH HE’S INNOCENT THE WHOLE TIME!”)

They end up only watching about a half hour of The Prisoner of Azkaban (because Harry’s hair looks the best in that) (“Is it wrong that I’m kind of attracted to thirteen year old Daniel Radcliffe?” asks Octavia at one point)(A chorus of “YES” and “I kinda am too” from Monty comes back at her) because they spend the rest of the time arguing about Harry Potter meta basically.

(“Anyone who doesn’t think Snape is a piece of shit needs to get out right now!” declares Bellamy)

(“Lily is not a prize to be won!” Monroe yells at no one in general, because everyone agrees that Snape has issues)

(“Okay, but consider the symbolism of their Patronuses. Snape is obsessed with Lily, that’s why their Patronuses are the same. James complements Lily, that’s why his is a stag and hers is a doe.” Clarke offers)

(“MIND BLOWN” yells a very tipsy Jasper)

December

Everything is going great. Clarke is doing pretty well in classes, she has the whole Delinquent crew at her back, and life is going really well. Until it isn’t.

She and Bellamy have settled into a friendship very comfortably and easily and she just enjoys spending time with him. It’s easy and kinda mandatory considering that Octavia is pretty much her best friend, and everyone knows, the Blakes come in a package deal. (Bargain or not? You decide)

It’s too good. She should’ve known. Regression to the mean and all that. Everything falls apart.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

In hindsight, Clarke knows that both she and Bellamy were having the worst day and that’s what probably led to it.

Clarke gets a C- on the English paper she spent a shit load of time on and because she spent a shit load of time on the paper, she didn’t study for her Advanced Calculus test, and because she didn’t study for her test, she failed it too.

She was late to class that morning and someone bumped into her during lunch and spilled her pho all over her pants. Her mom calls her in the middle of a professor’s lecture and then chews out Clarke’s life decisions and threatens to cut her off if she doesn’t go to med school, all in the same breath. Her dad’s death anniversary is coming up in a couple days and it just smacks her in the face. She hadn’t even realized it.

If you can name it, it went wrong. It’s just one of those days

She stomps into the coffee shop pissed, irritated, and just wanting to go home. She relieves Murphy and Monroe, who work the shift before her, but weirdly Bellamy hasn’t shown up.

Clarke never gets to work before him. She’s pretty sure he considers it a race.

Two hours into her shift and he still hasn’t shown up yet.

At this point, she is livid .

She had to deal with the evening rush all by herself and some asshole customer made her redo his drink 10 times so he could critique her clothes and posture and then give her his number.

Octavia isn’t replying to her increasingly frantic texts and she doesn’t have Bellamy’s number.

(It’s funny, she has everyone else’s number, but it just feels weird asking Bellamy for his number or giving him her number. It’s just…different.)

And then Bellamy walks in with 15 minutes left in their shift, a cloud of moodiness hanging about him, refusing to make eye contact with her, and Clarke snaps.

“Where the _hell_ have you been?” Her voice is low and deadly. Clarke moves so that she is face-to-face with him and he has to look at her.

“None of your damn business.” His voice is equally as quiet, but intense.

“It is my business when you don’t show up for work! What the hell Bellamy?”

He sneers and there’s something harsh on his face.

“Not all of us are as privileged as you, princess .”

She explodes.

“What the fuck you asshole? What the hell is your problem? You show up 2 hours late while I’ve been covering for you this entire shift and then say shit like this? I have had the shittiest day and I still have the decency to show up!”

“Let me guess, princess got a B on a quiz. Or maybe her nail polish got chipped. Or maybe her rich daddy called and said he was cutting your allowance. Well guess what? Some of us have real life problems. Not all of us can afford to come to college and do whatever the hell we want. Why are you even here? You don’t even need this job, when you can have whatever you want handed to you on a silver platter.”

“Fuck you Bellamy! I have worked my ass off to at this job and guess what? I do need this job. My daddy’s dead and my mom’s probably going to end up cutting me off!”

His voice is shaky and emotional.

“So what? For the first time princess is going to experience the real world? Welcome to reality! Some of us have had every damn thing in this god-forsaken world going against us and we try and try and try, but no matter what, we never manage to get anything! For some of us, no matter how hard we try, the world will never be on our side.”

“You think I don’t know that? You think I don’t know I’ve had it easier than you? And you then, of all people, should realize that just because my life was easier, doesn’t mean it was easy! Have you ever watched your father get shot in front of you, to protect you? Has your mother ever pulled the plug on your father’s life support without telling you shit and then covered it up in front of the whole world? Have you ever had random strangers, who know nothing about you, commenting on how you are either a slut or a prude or stupid or ugly or rude or snotty or privileged and telling you how you should feel, even about your father’s death? Fucking fuck you Bellamy Blake!”

Her voice trembles and she can’t hide it. Her fists are clenched at her side.

They’re barely an inch apart and they are both on the verge of tears.

There’s a long moment of silence and they’re basically just staring at each other, neither of them saying anything, waiting for the other to make the first move.

Finally, Clarke turns away and as she moves to leave, Bellamy grabs her left wrist gently.

“Clarke, wait.”

A sudden heat flares up where Bellamy’s left hand has grabbed her wrist.

Before their eyes, an intricate looking purple design unfolds across the palm of his hand, bleeding on to the back of his hand, and an identical one grows around her wrist, spreading to her forearm.

Clarke inhales sharply and Bellamy’s mouth falls open.

He’s still holding her wrist, ever so gently, when the heat fades.

She wrenches her wrist out of his grasp and twists back to look him in the eyes.

Her eyes are blazing and intense and his are burning right back at her.

“Don’t think this changes anything .” She spits out and storms out of the coffee shop.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

She takes the next two days off as sick days.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Octavia sends her a very cryptic text.

**Am fine. In hospital for a couple days. Will explain later I promise. Don’t worry about me. Phone is dying. Promise will talk to you when I get out.**

~ ~ ~ ~ ~~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

On the third day, she goes back to the coffee shop. Bellamy’s already there.

He doesn’t even look at her, let alone say a word to her and she does the same to him.

She avoids looking down at her left wrist or his left hand ever and refuses to dwell on it.

About halfway through their shift, a gorgeous brunette walks in.

She marches up to the counter and directs her question at Clarke.

“Are you Clarke Griffin?”

“Who’s asking?”

“I’m Raven Reyes. Also known as Finn’s other girlfriend. We need to talk.”

Clarke takes her break without a word.

As they sit across from each other at a table, they clear a few things up. Clarke’s pretty sure Bellamy can hear every word they’re saying because there is like one other customer in the shop, but Clarke doesn’t care.

“So I had no idea about you and you had no idea about me.” Raven confirms.

“So Finn is a two timing douchebag.” Clarke sums up.

Raven lets out a short bark of laughter. “Yeah. Friends?”

“Definitely.” Clarke adds Raven to her contacts list.

Raven leaves and Bellamy and Clarke close up without exchanging a single word or glance.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Octavia shows up at Clarke’s dorm the day after, on crutches.

“Octavia! What. Happened.” Clarke lets her in right away.

“You can’t tell Bellamy I was here, okay?” Octavia makes her promise.

Clarke snorts “That won’t be a problem.”

Octavia flops down on Clarke’s bed and starts her story.

“So remember I was dating that guy, Atom?”

Clarke hums an affirmative. “The quark-y guy.” Clarke was pretty proud of that pun.

“So, he invited me on a drive. And of course, I was like “sure”. I didn’t realize it, but when he picked me up, he was drunk. Long story short, there’s a car crash. We get taken to the ER, they call Bellamy, Bellamy comes, he freaks, calls Atom “drunk off his ass”, and says I can’t see him anymore."

Clarke huffs out a humorless laugh.

"Like of course I’m gonna break up with him, but he doesn’t need to tell me to! I am perfectly capable of figuring it out myself and he needs to realize that! I will date who I want and I know who’s good or not good for me!"

Clarke nods in solidarity.

"So we argue, I broke my leg at the shin and dislocated my knee. That shit’s expensive and we don’t have great healthcare, so most of it comes out of pocket.  Bellamy’s been working to pay his own and my tuition since forever and now I fucked it all up, but he still has the nerve to try to control what I do and who I do it with. Like does he really think I would’ve gotten in that car if I had known Atom was drunk off his ass?"

A thought occurs to Clarke and she scrunches up her face.

  
I didn’t realize it until like five minutes later and then I tried to get him to stop driving and that was when he crashed. And now I’m mad at Bellamy and he’s mad at me and I just want to take a nap.”

 

Clarke narrows her eyes. “Did this happen three days ago? In the evening?”

Octavia nods and Clarke’s vision is suddenly cleared. Fuck.

She wasn’t the only one having a shitty day.

Well, even if her and Bellamy's relationship is beyond repair, Octavia and Bellamy are the closest siblings she's ever seen. Clarke can help them at least.

“So basically, you’re mad at Bellamy because he told you not to date Atom and you think he’s mad at you for fucking up his college tuition and you both said things you didn’t mean in the heat of the argument, but you don’t want to be fighting with him?”

Octavia nods again. Clarke shakes her head and fixes her friend with her best "mom" look.

“Octavia. Your brother loves you and would do anything for you. He’s not mad at you, you just need to go talk to him, stupid. He adores you and if there’s any two people on this earth that can figure out how to fix his tuition, it’s you and Bellamy.”

Octavia smiles up at her softly and nods slower. “Thanks Clarke." I needed that. We can figure this out. But, can I take a nap first?”

Clarke grins back. She gestures to the couch. “Sure. Let me grab my stuff and move to the couch.”

Octavia shifts to one side of the bed and then Clarke’s hand catches her eye.

“Weird. Are you and Bellamy starting a trend of wearing gloves inside on one hand or something?”

Clarke laughs it off, but mutters under her breath, “Something like that.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Holy shit.

Things at the coffee shop are so awkward that Clarke just wants to crawl up into a little ball and not come out.

It’s unbearable when there aren’t any customers in the store and it’s just them two, with nothing to do.

Clarke literally hasn’t looked at Bellamy since, well, that day.

(That’s like a half truth. She’s looked at his back. He’s very aesthetically pleasing.)

She’s pretty sure Bellamy hasn’t looked at her either.

They keep their eyes down and communicate entirely through grunts and nods basically, exchanging the occasional one-word when absolutely necessary.

“Syrup.” He says.

It feels like she is always aware of where he is, like there’s a freaking Bellamy-heat-radar implanted in her head now and she throws the bottle to him without looking at him.

He catches the bottle easily and they both continue serving their respective customers.

If any of their friends or customers notice any awkwardness, they don’t bring it up.

Clarke pretty much always wears long sleeve shirts and she hasn’t seen Bellamy without at least a glove on his left hand since that day.

For now, it doesn’t arouse suspicion, but in the summer? When it’s a burning, sweltering hot? Someone’s probably going to say something.

Problems for later.

Clarke could ask for a shift change, but it would be weird and everyone would want to know why and someone would probably connect the dots.

Besides, she’s not going to let him win. If one of them is going to leave, it’s going to be him.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Raven and Octavia come in one day during their shift.

“Guess what bitches?!” Octavia all but screams as the bell on the door tinkles as it closes and Raven beams with enthusiasm.

Clarke grins at their infectious happiness. Bellamy raises a quizzical eyebrow.

Octavia glares at them impatiently. She gestures at them. “This is where you guess.”

Clarke taps a thoughtful finger on her chin. “Let’s see. You bought a llama to give to Monty for his birthday but Jasper accidentally got it high, so it had a threesome with Murphy and Miller.”

She hears Bellamy choke down a laugh.

Raven glares at them. “You two suck.”

Bellamy mutters a “Hey, not all of us like to swallow.” under his breath, that Clarke probably wasn’t supposed to hear, but hears anyway, and now it’s Clarke’s turn to stifle a giggle. At an incredibly immature quip. It wasn't even that funny.

“Hmph.” But Octavia can’t stay mad for long. She basically squeals, “Alright, so I found this great deal and I rented us all out a cabin up in the mountains from the 24th to the 1st, since none of us are going home, and it’s going to be great! There’s even a hot tub!” She squeals. 

What?

Stay in the same small log cabin, a limited enclosed space, as Bellamy (and everyone else) for four days?

Fuck .

Bellamy must have been thinking along the same lines because he goes, “Octavia…”

“Don’t you "Octavia" me! This is going to be great and fun and probably the best Christmas ever! We are going and there’s nothing you can do about it! It was super cheap and I’ve already paid anyways! And it's no refunds, so shut up and accept it!"

Bellamy doesn’t say anything more, but smiles at his little sister’s enthusiasm.

Octavia’s so excited that Clarke doesn’t want to ruin it. And she doesn’t want to go home anyways, that would be a nightmare. She was planning to spend it with her friends anyways. Otherwise, she would be spending Christmas alone, she rationalizes.

It makes sense for her to go to the cabin.

She and Bellamy will just…ignore the elephant in the room. For Octavia’s sake. Not like they haven’t already been doing that, right?

Exactly.

It’s going to be great.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

It sucks.

Octavia neglects to mention that by “in the mountains”, she doesn’t mean “a nice view from above”, but actually, “we are literally on the side of a mountain, an avalanche is probably going to kills us” is what she means.

Pretty much as soon as they get there, they get completely snowed in.

Add that to the fact that the cabin is basically a glorified single room (which explains why Octavia said to bring sleeping bags), with a kitchen, a TV, shitty WiFi, and an adjoining bathroom…

(Oh, and the hot tub? It’s outside…covered in snow and basically now made of solid ice.)

Things are not off to a great start.

Clarke basically spends the first two days doing whatever she can to avoid Bellamy.

Which is…not a lot. Basically nothing, to be honest.

Mostly they sit around playing drinking games and watching The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings, back to back.

It’s pretty nice just…suffocating.

The room feels super stuffy and Clarke constantly avoids looking anywhere near Bellamy and stays away as far as possible, because physical contact would be very awkward.

Then Jasper puts fucking mistletoe up and Clarke’s stress levels sky rocket.

By Christmas Eve, Clarke is ready to get the hell out of there, but the snow shows no sign of letting up.

They have a pleasant Christmas dinner (Raven can cook?? Amazingly well??) in which Clarke sits in the lower left corner and Bellamy sits in the upper right corner.

Dealing with life’s problems like an adult.

The days go by pretty quickly, and they get through the Hobbit, Lord of the Rings, and have started Harry Potter again. It actually ends up being pretty relaxing and Clarke wishes every day could be like this.

And then on New Year’s Eve, everyone gets shit-faced drunk.

Probably because they were taking a shot every time there was an inaccuracy in the movie.

(“His eyes are GREEN!”) (“Dude. His HAIR should be black. That’s brown.)

Clarke was washing dishes so she hadn’t participated in the first half or so and miraculously, Bellamy was still sober.

It’s 11:27 pm on New Year’s Eve and everyone is basically passed out except Bellamy and Clarke.

Wordlessly, they begin moving and rearranging the delinquents so they don’t wake up even worse.

Bellamy puts Octavia on the couch.

Clarke wraps Monroe and Harper in their sleeping bags and rolls them over by a wall. Monroe lets out a “wassup” but other than that, doesn’t stir. Harper squirms, but Clarke is eventually successful.

Clarke just somehow manages to shove a stagnant Raven into her sleeping bag and drags her over to another wall. Raven grunts.

She does the same to Monty, who basically looks even more angelic in sleep (and acts like it too. He doesn’t resist or say a thing).

Meanwhile, Bellamy shoves Murphy up by the TV and pushes Miller in next to Monty. He picks up Jasper and drops him against the fourth wall.

Unknowingly, Bellamy and Clarke have basically arranged their friends so that the only space for them to sleep is right in the middle. And there’s no other space in the room.

Fuck.

And natur-fucking-ally, Jasper has put the mistletoe up right in the center of the room.

Clarke finishes first, so she goes and lies down in the middle.

Clarke can tell exactly when Bellamy realizes what they have done because he hesitates and he’s staring at the ceiling.

His eyes shoot to her, and for the first time in a month, they make eye contact and a jolt shoots through Clarke.

He motions as if to go lie down in the bathroom or kitchen, but Clarke, feeling oddly calm, says “It’s fine.”

He eyes her for another second, waiting for her to rescind her statement, then moves to lie down next to her.

He lies down super gently, virtually silent, and they lie next to each other back-to-back.

What feels like an eternity later, Clarke still hasn’t fallen asleep and she’s pretty sure Bellamy hasn’t either.

She checks her phone and it’s 11:59 pm.

“Hey Bellamy?” she asks quietly.

Bellamy turns to face her and for the first time they realize just exactly how close they are.

There’s a long moment of silence and Clarke’s gaze drops down to his lips. He does the same.

But neither of them do anything.

Finally, Clarke leans in and pecks his cheek, lingering a moment more than she needs to.

“Happy New Year.” It comes out more like a question.

Bellamy nods, just once, and whispers it back. “Happy New Year.”

January

The aftermath is…awkward but less awkward.

It’s a lot less stressful and by the time they leave the cabin, Clarke feels…better.

It’s hard to explain. Neither of them have apologized for the…inexcusable things they said, but there’s some sort of a mutual understanding, sort of? They were friends before…and now they’re soulmates…

Basically it’s confusing and Clarke is going to ignore it until it blows up in her face. She’s pretty sure Bellamy’s going to do the same thing so…whatever.

Clarke feels like the real life representation of the shrug emoji.

And then she meets Lexa.

Clarke meets Lexa when Lexa comes into the coffee shop and Clarke immediately notices because a) she’s hot, b) her eye makeup is so on point, and c) Clarke is pretty sure Lexa’s checking her out too.

When Lexa first orders (some hella strong coffee), Bellamy’s in the back. While Clarke is making the drink, Bellamy comes out and he goes, “Oh, Lexa. _You’re_ here.”, not sounding very enthusiastic at all.

Lexa replies with about the same amount of excitement. “Better to get it over with.”

That’s how Clarke learns that the hot girl’s name is Lexa and that Lexa and Bellamy have been paired together for a project, and neither of them are very happy about it.

Bellamy shoots a glance at her and Clarke tilts her head to say “it’s fine” and Bellamy goes and sits at the same table as Lexa.

Almost as soon as he sits down, they start arguing.

Clarke’s kind of worried they’re going to kill each other, but they both seem to be actually enjoying it.

Clarke watches them with a sort of morbid interest. She’s basically just waiting to call 911.

Bellamy comes back to help her when the night rush flows in and then goes back to working with Lexa.

“Are you nuts? Augustus was the best emperor obviously! Pax Romana, anyone?”

Lexa scoffs. “The only reason Augustus got any power was because of Caesar’s death. Caesar was a far more skilled politician and speaker.”

“Yeah? And how’d that work out for him?”

Their incredibly aggressive conversation keeps going, somehow going from Caesar to gymnastics at the Summer Olympics (what even?), and to the benefits of the Chinese dynastic cycle, but they seem to be getting work done?

(“Let me spell it out for you. A-S-S-A-S-S-I-N-A-T-I-O-N”)

(“How can you possibly call gymnastics overrated? Gymnastics is probably the sport that takes the most skill! Ice skating is child’s play compared to gymnastics!”)

(“Look, the reason China has been politically stable, for most of history, because the dynastic cycle is a continuous pattern and keeps the foundation of China solid. Comparatively, Japan wasn’t exactly stable until the Tokugawa shogunate where they had to completely isolate themselves to figure their shit out.”)

(“You’re stupid”)

(“You’re stupider”)

(“Stupider isn’t a word”)

(“It is actually. Wanna bet? Microsoft Word won’t put a red squiggly under it.)

Clarke doesn’t even understand.

When Lexa packs up and leaves, she comes over to the counter and hands Clarke a slip of paper with her phone number on it.

Bellamy watches the exchange, but doesn’t say anything.

Clarke texts Lexa as soon as Clarke’s shift ends and that’s how Clarke starts dating Lexa.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

February

Octavia gushes about how Bellamy asked out a girl named Gina on Valentine’s Day and “it was actually romantic, I’m so proud”.

Something shifts in the pit of Clarke’s stomach, but Clarke ignores it and relives the beautiful Valentine’s Day dinner she had with Lexa.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Clarke hasn’t told Lexa about her soulmate mark yet and she’s pretty sure Gina doesn’t know either.

Gina starts coming in during their shift at the café and she’s the sweetest thing ever.

She and Gina become friendly really fast, but Clarke’s not really sure if she’d quantify them as friends yet.

After all, Clarke is kind of hiding something big from her. And Lexa.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Lexa and Clarke have taken things pretty slowly. There’s been lots of kissing, making out, and groping, but nothing too heavy yet.

Clarke has kind of been stalling. She doesn’t want to explain her soulmate mark and she’s worried it’s going to cause problems between them.

But as soon as they start becoming more intimate, Lexa notices.

She holds up Clarke’s wrist as they are lying side-by-side in bed and raises an eyebrow.

“You’ve met your soulmate?”

“Uh, sort of.” Clarke makes a split-second decision to lie. “It was in a huge crowd and so I never saw them.”

Lexa doesn’t look completely convinced, but she accepts it.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

March

Things start to fall apart in March.

Clarke’s not exactly sure how it happens, but Lexa barges into the café during her shift one day.

Thankfully, Bellamy’s on his break, so he doesn’t hear anything. (In hindsight, maybe Lexa planned it that way.)

Clarke smiles and is about to offer Lexa a kiss in greeting when Lexa hisses, “ _Bellamy_ is your soulmate?”

Clarke’s eyes widen.

_Shit._

What do they say again? Liars never prosper? Or is it cheaters? Doesn’t matter, this is bad.

“Wait! I can explain.”

“You don’t need to.” Clarke’s heart sinks.

"You didn’t say anything because you thought it would create problems between us, right?”

Her heart jumps right back up.

“Yes! Yeah! Exactly!” Clarke exclaims and kisses her.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

And it comes crashing down from there.

Lexa starts hanging out at the coffee shop more during Clarke’s shift.

Lexa and Bellamy’s arguments get a little more heated, but Bellamy appears to not realize why.

Lexa starts acting more standoffish to Jasper, Monty, Miller, Murphy, Harper, Monroe, and especially Octavia.

And then she starts flinching away from intimacy.

Moving away at night, avoiding eye contact, and then…

Well, Gina happens.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Octavia texts her, “ holy shit can you make sure bell’s okay pls? ”

Clarke’s confused and is about to type out a question, when Bellamy walks in.

He doesn’t look so great.

“Bellamy?”

“Gina broke up with me.” He cut off abruptly.

Clarke’s left kind of speechless. What exactly did one say to their soulmate when their soulmate’s girlfriend broke up with them? Was there some sort of protocol for this?

Plus, she had thought their relationship was going great.

“I thought that too.” Apparently she had said that last remark. Whoops.

“She found out that we’re uh…you know.”

“Wait, how did she know? She’s never seen mine?”

Bellamy shrugged, but he looked away from Clarke like he already knew how.

“Wait. The only other person who knows about it…is Lexa. Lexa told her?”

Clarke’s voice got softer and softer as she finished the thought.

Bellamy looked at her, far too gently. “It’s fine. It wasn’t going to work out anyways.”

Clarke was mad. “No, it’s not fine!”

Bellamy shrugged. “Gina deserved to know.”

“But Lexa should’ve let you tell her and not interfered!”

“She was trying to do something nice.”

“That’s not it. Lexa’s been acting super weird ever since she found out about....” Clarke lets her sentence trail off and determinedly ignores the awkward.

Bellamy shrugged. "She's probably just getting used to it."

Clarke tapped her chin thoughtfully. All of a sudden, her phone vibrated.

It was Lexa. “I’m going to take my break, be back in soon.”

She answers the phone in the back.

“Lexa?”

“Clarke.” Lexa’s tone sounds cold and her statement is clipped.

“You told Gina?” A little bit of Clarke’s irritation seeps into her voice.

“Of course.”

“Lexa. You should’ve let Bellamy tell her when it was time.” Clarke’s a little mad.

“Why do you care so much?” Lexa’s question takes her aback.

Why does she care so much?

“Lexa, Bellamy’s my friend. What you did was wrong.”

“A friend? Just a friend?” Lexa sounds both skeptical and morbidly amused.

“He’s your soulmate! How am I supposed to compete with that?”

Clarke is bewildered. “You don’t need to.”

Lexa sighs. “I’m sorry Clarke. There’s a pause, then, “I don’t think this is going to work out.”

“What?”

“I’m breaking up with you.”

Clarke is left speechless for the second time in like ten minutes.

“I hope this doesn’t create any hard feelings between us.”

Clarke is still processing.

“Bye Clarke.” Lexa hangs up.

“Wait! Lexa! Lexa?” Clarke is standing there, dazed.

What the hell just happened?

She walks out to the front, still holding her phone and wearing a stunned expression.

Bellamy notices right away and waits for her to say something.

“Lexa just broke up with me?” Clarke isn’t really sure what her voice is saying.

She says it again. “Lexa just broke up with me.” It sounds a little more concrete.

“Shit.” Bellamy looks confused at the turn of events. “Well, today’s a shitty day.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

By the time her shift ends, Clarke is ready to get drunk, so when Bellamy locks up and hands her a bottle of vodka, Clarke doesn’t complain.

Bellamy goes first.

“I can’t believe she broke up with me.”

“I second that and raise you ‘I have no idea what just happened’.”

Bellamy laughs harshly and they both take a swig, and just sit against the counter in silence.

Bellamy points at her. “It’s your fault you know.” He says teasingly.

“Or maybe you just sucked in bed.”

“I did plenty of sucking all right.”

She mock slaps him. “Bellamy!”

“What’s your excuse?”

“I guess I didn’t suck enough.”

They both start laughing and keep drinking.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

In order to cheer them up, Octavia decides a beach trip is in order…in March.

So Octavia herds the whole gang into Raven’s van and they set out on the road.

Raven parks at the airport.

“Not to be a party pooper or anything, but this is an airport. Beaches have water.” Clarke comments dryly.

Raven grins. “The party hasn’t even started yet. Come on!”

Raven and Octavia proceed to drag Bellamy and Clarke into the airport.

(Monroe and Harper promise to guard the van, Murphy makes “no such commitments”, Monty and Miller just want to make out, and Jasper just wants to blast music)

“We didn’t pack for an flight or shit, O!” Bellamy protests.

“Relax, big brother. Have faith in your little sister.”

“A bit hard to do.”

Clarke snorts.

A whirlwind montage of being dragged through an airport later, Clarke literally runs into someone.

She looks at Raven and Octavia’s cheeky excited smiles, Bellamy’s slightly confused face, and then back at her best friend’s smiling face, to make sure she’s not hallucinating anything.

“Wells!” He’s standing in front of her, holding a suitcase.

She shrieks and attack-hugs him!

He laughs and hugs her back.

“What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be across the freaking country!”

“Your friends arranged a little something!” He nods at Octavia and winks at Raven.

“I’ve got to go back next week though.”

“Oh my god! Thank you guys so much!” She would hug them, but she’s not letting go of Wells for another minute at least.

She realizes Bellamy is still standing there, slightly awkwardly.

She lets go of Wells. “This is Wells, my best friend. Wells, this is Bellamy Blake…Octavia’s big brother.”

How else is she supposed to introduce Bellamy?

Wells, this is my soulmate that I used to hate, then I liked, then I hated again, but then…something happened? What even happened?

She shrugs it off while Bellamy and Wells are shaking hands.

She grabs Wells and starts dragging him back to the van.

She’s pretty sure that she’s talking at like 60 miles per hour, but she hasn’t seen Wells in forever and they’ve gotten sloppy in texting, so they don’t talk nearly as much.

“My anthropology teacher is such a dick like his name is probably Richard the Third. Oh, I can’t for you to wait Monty though, you two are going to get along really well. And you’ll probably get along super well with Miller too. You and Murphy might have some issues, but Murphy has issues with everyone, that’s just the way he is.”

He laughs and Clarke all but shoves him into the van.

“Everyone, this is Wells! Wells, this is Harper, Jasper, Monroe, Monty, Miller and Murphy.”

Wells waves in that awkward way that Wells somehow manages to make look cool.

A chorus of “Hi Wells!” rings out.

Wells is still laughing and when Clarke prods him, he explains. “I’m pretty sure Bellamy, Octavia, and Raven are still back at the boarding gate. I’ve never seen you run so fast!”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

When Bellamy, Octavia, and Raven get into the van, a good 6 minutes later, Raven turns on the ignition and they pull out of the airport.

“We should totally have lunch at that Indian place by the dorms!” Clarke suggests, in very high spirits.

Octavia laughs, slightly wickedly. “We’re not going back to campus.”

She hollers, “Beach day, bitches!”

The others whoop and Clarke laughs, surrounded by the people she loves.

Bellamy catches her eye and he’s just wryly grinning and shaking his head affectionately.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

An hour and a half later, a slightly more cranky van of young "adults" arrive at the beach.

Pretty much as soon as they reach the beach, everyone jumps out of the van and Raven drags Wells away with her towards the ocean, leaving Bellamy and Clarke to take everything out of the van.

“Honestly.” Bellamy puffs. “Kids, these days.”

Clarke laughs and the noise lingers.

The sun is shining on her back, they’re all at the beach, Wells is here, so life is pretty much perfect.

Well, almost.

Jasper’s the first one into the water. As soon as he touches it, he yelps and jumps right back out.

“What’s wrong Jasper? Feeling hydrophobic?” Octavia laughs as she crashes into the water right behind him.

She shrieks and runs away from the water.

Hearing screaming, Bellamy and Clarke look over, worried.

Bellamy yells, “O? What’s wrong?”

“The water’s COLD!”

Bellamy starts laughing and it’s infectious.

“The water is like ice-cold! It’s freezing .” Octavia complains.

Clarke is doubled over in laughter.

“It’s March! What did you expect?” she manages to choke out between peals of laughter.

The others are now looking at the water cautiously.

Monty pokes a toe in and winces.

Murphy glares at the water, then just straight up sits down in the water, and stays like that.

Monroe and Harper settle for making a sand castle.

Miller lets Jasper and Octavia bury him in sand.

Bellamy voices what Clarke is thinking.

“Two missing. Raven and Wells. Where did they go?”

Clarke counts up the delinquents really quickly.

“You’re right. I’m not sure.”

“Well, if they’re not back by lunch, sucks to be them.”

Clarke shrugs and proceeds to basically juggle three towels, an umbrella, a bag full of food, and two bottles of sunscreen to a spot on the beach.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Clarke can’t believe her week with Wells is already over.

“I’m really going to miss you so much!” She hugs him again for possibly the thousandth time.

He says as much, but hugs her back anyways.

As they’re pulling away, he grabs her left sleeve and pulls it up.

“So, Bellamy, huh?”

“Wells!” She hissed, pulling her sleeve down.

“Did you really expect me not to notice? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I don’t know it’s been really weird. How did you figure it out?”

He counts them off on his fingers, “You didn’t take off your sweater at the beach even though you were wearing your favorite bikini. Bellamy was wearing gloves at the beach the whole time, except when he was washing his hands, and I saw it then. You keep touching your left wrist. Bellamy keeps rubbing his left palm. Wasn’t exactly rocket science. Chemistry, on the other hand…” he smirks, letting his voice trail off.

“Did you tell anyone?”

“Of course not!”

“You sure about that?”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“All I’m saying is that you and Raven were getting awfully cozy this week.” She raises her hands in a “just saying” motion.

Wells huffs.

Clarke stares him down, arms crossed.

Wells is too nice for staring contests. He always loses.

“If you must know, Raven and I have been texting for a while, since she stole my number from you actually.”

“Mhm, and how long would that be exactly?”

“A month…or two…or three.”

“Three months?” Clarke exclaims, a little too loudly.

“Shhh.” Wells looks around for their friends, a little red. “It’s nothing.”

“But there is an it then.”

“Yeah, sort of.”

“Are you soulmates?”

“Nope.”

Clarke shrugs. “To be honest, soulmate tattoos don’t really make much of a difference.”

Wells eyes her. “It comes down to the person you choose, huh?”

“Absolutely.”

“Remember that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“No-othing.”

“Wells!”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

April

It’s so subtle that Clarke almost doesn’t notice.

It’s the tiny little things.

Instants of quick eye contact for just a moment, a quick laugh here and there, a brush of the arm, a smack of the lips, a funny facial expression.

All these miniscule things start happening between her and Bellamy.

They still work in silence, but now it’s, dare she say it? A _comfortable_ silence.

They’ve started working together again and it’s like they can read each other’s minds.

If Clarke needs the cinnamon, Bellamy’s already throwing it to her.

Things have definitely changed.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Usually Octavia doesn’t come in very often during their shift actually.

When she does, it usually means something.

So when Octavia shows up on a Friday night, when she’s usually out partying, Clarke raises an eyebrow at her.

“What? I can’t hang out with my brother and best friend on a Friday night?”

“Mhm. Sure.” Clarke goes on in her endeavor of making a cappuccino, but keeps an eye on Octavia.

She goes into the back for a second.

“Hey Bellamy, Octavia’s here.”

Bellamy is kneeling by the storage and he’s bent over with his head stuck in some boxes, so his voice comes out a little muffled.

“Tell her I’m not talking to her.”

“Why?” When Blake sibling drama goes down, it usually becomes café drama.

Bellamy doesn’t reply and, if anything, buries his head deeper into the boxes.

Clarke puts a hand on his shoulder.

“Bellamy.”

He straightens.

“She’s dating someone.” He says without looking at her.

“That’s great!” Clarke exclaims. “Wait, why didn’t she tell me?”

He looks back at her. “Probably cause he’s older than me.”

“Huh. That’s not too bad.”

“What do you mean ‘not too bad’? He’s older than me!”

“Bellamy, you’re really not that much older than me either.”

Fuck .

Is this the first time she’s casually mentioned that they’re soulmates?

Fuck .

Hopefully Bellamy didn’t notice, but judging by his momentarily-frozen expression he has.

He covers really well though.

“Well, he’s even older than me!”

“What’s his name?”

“ _Apparently_ , he goes by Lincoln. Sounds like he’s dangerous! Like come on, one-word names, really?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Bellamy, he could be named after good ole’ honest Abe.”

Bellamy pouts, like an adorable little kid.

His kids would be adorable.

Holy shit, where did that thought come from?

"From your mind obviously", says the more sarcastic part of her brain.

_Shut up you._

_This wasn’t supposed to happen. Fuck. No._

_It was just a momentary lapse, focus Clarke._

“Okay, I’m going to go tell her that you’re not over it quite yet, but you will be soon.”

Bellamy grunts an affirmative.

“You big baby.”

She leaves to go tell Octavia that Octavia’s brother is actually a baby turtle.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The next night, she’s in the back refilling the coffee beans, and about to bring her freshly-refilled containers to the front, when Bellamy suddenly blocks the doorway, throwing himself across it.

“What the hell Bellamy?”

He tries to play it off as casual.

“Hey Clarke. It’s really hot in the front. Maybe you should just stay in the back.”

She shakes her head confused.

“Do you have a fever or something?”

“No, no!”

“Why aren’t you letting me go out?”

Bellamy stutters, for possibly the first time since she’s known him.

“Me? Me stop you? Like I could!” He tries to laugh, but it comes out more like a cough.

“Bellamy. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing! Nothing, nothing at all, absolutely nothing. Everything is peachy-keen, just fine, go back to the back.” His voice is very high-pitched.

“Bellamy, I need to refill the machines.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that, I’ll do that!”

When Clarke gives him a “really?” look, he protests.

“Don’t look at me like that! I’m nice.”

“More like a nerd.”

She tries to push past him.

He doesn’t let her.

“Bellamy.”

“Clarke.” He mimics her tone.

“Bellamy.”

“Clarke.”

“Okay, what’s really going on out there?”

He raises his hands a tiny bit in surrender.

“Okay, you got me. There’s a naked dude running around in the front. Let me take care of it and I’ll let you know when it’s safe to look.”

“That’s the best you could come up with?” She tries to move past him again.

He bumps her gently, making several beans fall to the floor.

“Oops! You better stay right here and pick them up.”

Clarke shakes her head at him with narrowed eyes, but when she bends down to pick the beans up, she sees past him.

Her stomach drops and nausea builds really fast.

Lexa is kissing another girl right at the counter.

Not just kissing, more like highkey making out.

She lets out a soft “oh”.

He winces.

“Shit Clarke, I’m sorry I should’ve told you.”

“It’s fine.” She looks up at him and smiles faintly. “I’m fine. It was just…unexpected.”

And the funny thing is, she’s actually not lying.

Now that the initial wave of nausea has passed, she actually feels okay.

Bellamy’s eyes are concerned. “You sure?”

“Bellamy. I’m fine.”

She pushes him away gently by shoving his chest. “Go man the counter, stupid.”

“I take offense at that!” he says as he leans down to pick up the beans he spilled.

He grabs them and tosses them in the trash.

Clarke stares at him for a second.

A seemingly simple act, but one that most people wouldn’t have done.

She ignores a niggling feeling and proceeds to calmly refill the machines.

When Lexa and her girlfriend separate, the first thing Clarke sees is that Lexa has a red soulmate design on her chin.

Well, shit.

She smiles at Lexa, when Lexa looks at her. “Hey.”

Lexa nods back at her, with a half-smile.

“This is Costia. My soulmate.”

Clarke shakes Costia’s hand. She’s cute and seems nice.

“Nice to meet you.”

Bellamy’s watching their exchange carefully.

Lexa turns her attention to Bellamy.

“Blake, I hear your sister’s dating Lincoln.”

Bellamy stands up straight, from his position where he was leaning against the wall.

“You know him?”

“Very well. He’s a good guy. Probably no better guy out there. Your sister could do a lot worse.”

Bellamy raises an eyebrow at that, but takes it.

“Has he ever cheated before? Soulmate mark? Is he violent?”

As Lexa answers his rapid-fire questions, Clarke goes back to the back finish her task.

(“No. Not yet. Nope. He’s possibly the nicest person I know well.”)

When Clarke comes back to the front, Costia is in the bathroom and Bellamy is talking to Lexa in significantly more hushed tones.

They don’t notice her, but she can just barely hear their conversation from behind one of the machines.

Their conversation is…weird. Usually, their interaction is about 99% sass. Today, it’s maybe a 50%.

“So, Blake.”

“Lexa.”

“What’s your ‘deal’ with Clarke?”

“Trying to imply something?”

“Was I not clear enough?”

“If you were, would I be asking?”

Lexa poses a question as a statement.

“You do realize that you and Clarke are soulmates.”

Bellamy lets out a noncommittal shrug and looks very determinedly away from Lexa.

“Seriously, Blake? I thought we knew each other better than that.”

Bellamy looks at her, but doesn’t say anything.

“Oh, make a move you dolt-head! Or some asshole who doesn’t deserve Clarke is going to end up with her.”

Bellamy falters, at a loss for words.

“Thanks for the advice Lexa, but we both just got out of relationships. I don’t think either of us are ready yet.”

“You two are both so thickheaded, honestly! You definitely deserve each other.”

Clarke can’t really stand behind the machine for any longer without giving away that she’s eavesdropping.

She moves away quietly, pretending like she wasn’t paying any attention to their conversation, but they both spot her and shut up immediately.

Bellamy not so subtly goes back to work, Costia returns from the bathroom, and Lexa resumes talking to Costia.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

During close-up, while Clarke is wiping down the counter, Bellamy brings it up.

“So. Lexa found her soulmate.”

Clarke hums an affirmative.

There’s a short silence, then Bellamy says, “I think Gina and Raven are fucking.”

Clarke turns to look at him.

“You okay?”

He nods.

“Not upset?”

“No, actually.” He shrugs.

“That’s good.”

“It is.”

They close up in pleasant and warm silence.

She never thought she would describe “silence” as “warm”, but warm is definitely the best descriptor.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Bellamy is basically never late. Except for that one day.

So when he’s two minutes late, she’s more than a little worried.

Miller strides into the shop.

“Miller! What are you doing here?”

Miller shrugs off his coat and grabs his apron.

“Bellamy asked me to switch with him.”

Clarke bites her lip. Well, shit.

“Bellamy asked you to switch with him? Like for the foreseeable future?”

Miller looks at her a little weirdly.

“Nah, just for today.”

Clarke is more than a little relieved. “Oh. Wait, why?”

Miller shrugs. “Not sure.”

Clarke frowns. “Wait a sec.”

She grabs her phone and calls Monty.

“What’s up Clarke?”

He doesn’t sound high, so that’s good.

“Hey, can you switch shifts with me right now?”

“At this very moment?”

“Yup.”

“Why? Bellamy pissing you off?”

“Funny how that’s your first assumption. Actually, Bellamy asked Miller to switch shifts with him for today, but didn’t say why.”

“So you’re worried about him?” She can hear the implication but very determinedly ignores him.

“How fast can you get here?”

“Wait, is Miller working the shift?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll be there in five.” His breath quickens.

Clarke raises her eyebrows even though Monty obviously can’t see her.

“Someone has priorities.”

“Shut up.”

“Never.”

Monty hangs up on her and shows up in three minutes.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Clarke puts her stuff away real quickly and texts Octavia for Bellamy’s address.

Octavia texts it to her with a “Why…”

Clarke ignores the second part of text, mostly because she doesn’t know the answer herself.

Why is she going to Bellamy’s?

Well, he asked Miller to switch shifts.

In the seven months she’s known him, he has never switched shifts, even after the…Big Fight, as Clarke as taken to calling it in her head.

It’s actually a miracle that none of their friends have figured out that they had a giant blowup or that they’re soulmates.

To be fair, Clarke has yet to wear anything but long sleeves in front of them and Bellamy always wears gloves, claiming that his hands get cold easily.

But now that the weather is getting warmer, that’s not going to be so easy for either of them.

Maybe they just have to face this?

But what does “facing this” entail…

Once again, she forces this train of thought out of her mind and instead focuses on getting to Bellamy’s apartment.

It’s in a pleasant looking white apartment building. The elevator creaks a little and is a little rusted but it does just fine.

As she approaches his door, she slows her stride.

This is probably a really bad idea.

A really, really bad idea.

Why did she even think this could be a good idea?

Fuck, she’s an idiot.

Well, she makes bad decisions every day, time to add another one to the list.

She raps on his door smartly.

There’s no response.

Weird…

She tries again.

Same result.

She yells through the door. “Bellamy Blake, get off your ass and open this door right now!”

She is met with faint coughing.

She frowns and tries the handle.

To her surprise, it’s unlocked and she walks into his apartment.

Her first thought is that it’s very Bellamy.

It’s small and cozy, without feeling claustrophobic. There are books literally everywhere and there are still pots and pans on the kitchen. It’s warm inside, but not stuffy.

Her second thought is that it’s an absolute mess.

There are clothes lying everywhere, dirty dishes lying in the sink and scattered around, and the couch is covered by a giant lump.

Oh wait, that’s Bellamy wrapped in a blanket.

She gapes at him. “What the hell happened to you?”

He coughs and rasps out, “Clarke? What are you doing here?”

“Checking on you, stupid. Are you sick?”

He coughs harder. “No I’m fine. Perfect. Just hungover.”

“Oh. Interesting. What kind of alcohol makes coughing a side effect?”

“The harsh kind.” He chokes out.

“Nice to see you haven’t lost your sense of humor even though you’re obviously sick.”

She goes to his side and puts her hand on his forehead.

“Holy shit, Bellamy, you’re burning up.”

“You could just say I’m hot.” He suggests cheekily, though his cheekiness is ruined by the preceding and subsequent coughing fits.

“Alright, get up. You are going to go take a nice hot bath, while I get rid of this mess, and make it so that you actually survive this shit.”

“But, Claaaarke.” He whines.

She glares at him. “I’m going to go get you a set of clothes and put them in the bathroom. You better be in there in five minutes.”

Leaving him no room for argument, she heads for his bedroom.

His bedroom is very clean, except for the scattered books. His bed is even made, somehow. It smells like Bellamy. Clean, but dark, if that makes sense. With a little hint of coffee.

She opens his closet and picks out a black t-shirt (that makes his arms look very, very good) and a pair of pajama pants.

Fuck. Is she supposed to grab underwear for him? Fuck.

What is the protocol for this?

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

She finds a box full of socks and underwear. She doesn’t want to invade his privacy, because she technically just barged in. She closes her eyes, thinks about it, and then backs away without taking one.

Crisis number one solved, she puts it on the bathroom counter and moves back out to the living area.

“Bellamy, you big lump, get your ass into that bathroom!” she calls as she walks back into the kitchen.

She hears groaning and looks back.

Burrito Bellamy has rolled off the couch and is now slowly standing up.

She would laugh if he didn’t look so miserably sick. His face is flushed and his walking is a little unsteady.

She realizes she’s basically staring at him, so she looks away and focuses on cleaning the kitchen.

She hangs up her coat and purse by the door.

She washes all the dishes, including the pots and pans, and wipes down the counters.

She finds the pantry well-stocked, so she throws together some soup in a pot and leaves it on the stove to cook.

She goes into the living area and piles all the clothes into one big heap, which she sticks into a laundry bag she finds in his house. She puts all the books on shelves and feels pretty accomplished. She opens some windows (fresh air works wonders for sickness), grabs a fresh blanket and pillow, and hunts down some Tylenol from his kitchen.

She’s basically just waiting for him to exit, so she grabs a book and settles down on the couch.

It’s still warm from where he was.

An indeterminate amount of time later, she hears footsteps and a towel-wearing Bellamy appears.

Her throat suddenly goes dry.

Bellamy’s towel is only covering his lower half, so his upper half is totally on display.

She knew Bellamy was fit, but damn .

She gets distracted for several moments.

“Once you’re done staring at my abs, can you hand me a pair of my underwear?”

Clarke blushes red. “Why would your underwear be here?”

“Wait, this isn’t my bedroom? You’re lying on my bed, aren’t you?”

Clarke blushes harder from the implication of his words.

“Oh boy, Bellamy your fever is really bad. Go back to the bathroom.”

He turns back towards the bathroom in a zombie-like trance. She follows him and then goes back into his bedroom closet.

She steels herself, closes her eyes, and grabs a pair of underwear.

She manages to get it into his hands of a mildly delirious Bellamy, standing in the doorway of the bathroom, without looking at it.

She feels his forehead again. His fever definitely hasn’t gotten any better. Feels like it’s gotten a lot worse, actually.

Well, fuck.

“You need to get dressed, Bellamy.” She tells him softly, and closes the bathroom door.

He must have heard her because a minute or so later, he opens the door and he’s fully dressed in the very nice black shirt.

She leads him back to the couch and tucks him in with the clean blanket.

She puts a rag soaked in cold water on his forehead and grabs his dirty clothes and blanket and puts those in the laundry bag too.

If his fever doesn’t break soon, things could be more serious than she thought.

She grabs a glass of water and taps him awake.

“You’re going to have to swallow these.” She gets a half-conscious Bellamy to swallow some Tylenol.

She settles down next to him and grumbles.

“I swear to God, Bellamy Blake, if you do not get better fast, you and I are going to have issues.”

She replaces the wet rag on his forehead.

“We were going to figure some shit out. Come on, now.” Her voice is gentler and she pats away his messy hair from his forehead.

She absent mindedly plays with his hair while waiting for his fever to break.

Clarke turns on the TV and switches to the History Channel.

She changes the rag every ten or so minutes.

Clarke loses track of the time between changing rags, playing with his hair, putting blankets on him, taking them off, and watching TV.

It’s getting dark, so it’s got to be around 8.

Bellamy’s fever breaks a little after 9 and Clarke is incredibly relieved.

Clarke removes the rag and Bellamy appears to be actually sleeping peacefully, so she lets herself relax on her chair, just a little.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

When she wakes up, it’s light outside. The TV’s been turned off and she’s lying on the couch under a couple blankets.

Bellamy’s sitting in her chair, still in burrito form.

She sits up. “What are you doing? You’re still sick!”

She claps a hand around her mouth.

Her voice sounds horrible . Like a frog with a raging cat in its throat.

She’s croaking.

Bellamy gives her an all-too-smug grin.

“Not as sick as you are, princess.” His voice is still raspy, but a lot better already.

He softens. “Go back to sleep, princess. I’ll wake you up with food.”

She’s just barely grunted in acknowledgement when her vision fades to black again.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

This time she wakes up to Bellamy’s voice and a hand gently shaking her shoulder.

She jumps awake. Her nose and throat feel clogged.

“Now I know what my shower drain feels like.” She croaks at Bellamy.

“That was a shitty joke. You sound terrible.”

“I do. I sound like Morgan Freeman.”

“No, you don’t.”

Clarke is about to thank him for trying to comfort her when the asshole finishes his thought.

“Morgan Freeman’s voice is smoother and nicer and richer. You just sound like a chipmunk that swallowed to much salt water and then got swallowed by a frog.”

“Thanks asshole. I’d throw a pillow at you except I like this pillow. Pretend like I’m throwing pillows, okay?”

He pretends to duck from his sitting position.

She snorts. “If this was an actual pillow fight, you’d be getting your butt kicked right now.”

“Thankfully, it’s all in your head.” Not seeming to notice the double meaning, he continues, “Now, the actual reason I woke you is because food.”

He presents a bowl of soup with a flourish of his hand.

“Your soup tasted…well, let’s just say you put spicy peppers in instead of bell peppers. And you weren’t even delirious, so I’m not sure what your excuse is.”

She sticks out her tongue at him. “Please tell me you found out the hard way.”

“Trust me, I did.” He motions for her to sit up and starts to spoon feed her.

“I’m not that sick!”

“Clarke, your fever is like a 106.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah, shit.”

“Yours felt like 108 though. Like I actually thought you were going to spontaneously combust.”

“Nice that I didn’t.”

“Thanks to me.”

She’s expecting him to bicker and banter with her, but instead he smiles and says, “Yeah. Thank you Clarke.”

Clarke grins back.

“Now shut up and eat.”

“Yessir.”

“That wasn’t shutting up.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Clarke starts falling asleep again about halfway through the bowl.

She hears Bellamy laugh right before her consciousness disappears.

She floats in and out of sleep.

At one point, Bellamy pokes her.

“Shove over. You’re not the only sick one.”

She moves and she ends up being the little spoon on the one person couch.

She wakes up a several more times, but it’s only for a few moments.

She’s pretty sure Bellamy became the little spoon at one point and another time his arms were wrapped around her waist.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

When she wakes up for good, she can tell it’s a lot later in the day.

She’s lying on top of Bellamy and her face is buried in the crevasse between his shoulder and neck.

His arms are wrapped around her waist and her arms are right above his.

Bellamy’s already awake.

His voice is low from sleep, but he sounds almost healthy.

“Hey. I didn’t want to wake you up.”

“You didn’t.” Her voice sounds much less like a rasp and just very husky now, but that could be from just waking up.

They lie there in silence for another few moments.

Their faces are very close together.

“What time is it?”

“Not sure. I only woke up like five minutes ago.”

Another pause in the conversation. They’re basically still cuddling, but neither of them are addressing it.

“Hey, how come you’re already better? It took me like two days and you’re fine in one? Not fair.”

“Some of us are just naturally better.”

He snorts. “Yeah. Better at being worse.”

She shakes her head a little.

“That sucked. I expect better from you Bellamy Blake.”

“Yeah, okay, that sucked but I just got better from being sick.”

“Me too! But it’s okay, we all know I’m just better at witty repartees. “

He mocks being offended and huffs. “In your dreams.”

A realization comes crashing down on her.

“Fuck, Bellamy.”

“I feel like that would be a little early, we just finished being sick.”

Clarke blushes, a tiny bit, and slaps his chest.

“No, stupid! We have work today!”

His eyes widen dramatically. “Fuck!”

“What time is it?” She sits up so she’s basically sitting in his lap.

“Shit, my phone’s over on the counter.

She gets up from the heater that is Bellamy and checks his phone.

“Fuck, we have half an hour.”

“That’s not too bad.”

“I need to shower. And so do you, by the way.”

He sniffs himself.

“Don’t even try to argue with me Bellamy Blake, we are going to be serving customers. Health and hygiene standards!”

He looks amused and raises his arms in surrender.

“Fine, fine. You can go first. I think Octavia has a pair of pants in the guest room and I’ll grab you a shirt.”

He gets up and stretches, the black shirt lifting just a bit, revealing a little stomach and then goes to grab a shirt, presumably.

She enters the guest room and opens the drawers, but there’s only a skirt, no pants.

The skirt will have to do. It is a cute skirt though. Black with intricate white patterns and it goes down to her knees.

She goes into the bathroom and Bellamy shows up in the doorway, holding a light blue and white plaid shirt.

“This do?”

“Yeah, thanks!” she says closing the door, a little too fast.

She turns on the shower and sits down on top of the toilet to try to sort out her thoughts for a bit.

She and Bellamy are soulmates, okay.

They were, no, they are friends, okay.

They might be something more.

They just cuddled comfortably for like five hours.

Pretty sure that qualifies them as something more. Well, not necessarily. Cuddling can be very platonic.

But that definitely wasn't the kind of cuddling Clarke did with her platonic friends.

But they didn’t talk about it.

What the hell.

Fuck.

What is this?

Does she like him? Like, like-like him?

She is definitely physically attracted to him. Those arms, the hair, the abs, the face, and the freckles, oh goodness.

She definitely likes him as a person. He takes care of his sister, he’s caring, but he’s also snarky and funny.

She trusts him. They work together really well. They just do, easily in sync and coordinated.

She thinks about kissing him. Like actually kissing him.

Her heart rate increases. Fuck.

She might have a teensy crush on Bellamy Blake.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Bellamy, I’m out! Hurry we have like twenty minutes!” She calls, towel-drying her wet hair.

A shirtless Bellamy yells, “Got it!” and rushes into the bathroom.

She checks her phone. Holy shit, her notifications are going nuts.

Octavia

**Wait why’d you need b’s address?**

**Clarke?**

**Y aren’t you replying?**

**Bellamys not answering his phone either**

**Wtf is going on**

**Omfg omfg raven just said**

**Are you**

**Omggggggggggggg**

**Text me when you wake up**

**Holy shit its like 8 why haven’t you replied it**

**Are you guys still busy?????**

**Holy shit what even its friggin 3pm**

**CLARKE**

**You and bellamy really are going all out god**

**Ffr I don’t wanna hear ANYTHING abou this**

**I stg nothing**

**Just knowing this much has already scarred me**

**CLARRRRKKKEEEEE**

**Text meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee**

Raven

**_Dude Octavia’s like totally freaking out_ **

**_Apparently you asked for bellamy’s address and now neither of you are replying_ **

**_Which means that either you killed him_ **

**_Orrrrrrrrrr_ **

**_My personal favorite_ **

**_CLARKE GRIFFIN GOT LAID DAMN GIRL HIT THAT_ **

**_Im so proud of you clarkeeeyyyy_ **

**_About time, get some good_ **

**_I cant believe it took you two this long tbh_ **

**_Like the crazy sexual tension_ **

**_Cheemmissstryyyyy_ **

**_Dude_ **

**_Ok I accept that you went to sleep and maybe didn’t wake up til like 12 if you were very tired_ **

**_But its like freakin 5 in the evening_ **

**_Is that even possible_ **

**_Like how_ **

**_Cllaaaaaaaaaaarke_ **

**_Is this legit_ **

**_How even_ **

**_I stg if you guys have been at it for almost freakin 24 hrs_ **

**_Holllyyyy shit_ **

**_Likeeeee goddammmmnnn_ **

Wells

You know raven + o are both going crazy

Good job fyi

But be safe

Kk?

Text me when you can

SAFETY

Don’t forget

SAFETY

Monty

_CLARKE OMGGGGGG_

_About TIME!!!!!!!_

Harper

**squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE**

**this is literally the best thing that has ever happened**

**I cant believe im alive to see this**

**I thought you guys were just gonna drag it out 5ever**

**Guess you gotta make up for lost time now, huh?**

Jasper

** OMFG MONTY JUST TOLD ME **

** IS THIS REAL **

** IS THIS HAPPENING **

** AM I ALIVE **

** #BELLARKE IS REAL **

** IM SO PROUF YOU GUY S GOT YOUR SHIT TOFETHER **

** SO EXCVITED I CANTE VEN TYUPE **

** HAAAAAAALLLEEEJULLAAAAAH OR HOWEVER YOU SPELL THAT **

Miller

**_Good job Clarke but id like my best friend back in one piece okay?_ **

**_Also preferably not exhausted_ **

**_But well, I guess you cant have everything_ **

**_If y’all need extra condoms, there’s an extra package in the bathroom closet ur welcome bellamy_ **

Monroe

MONTY JUST TOLD US

CONGRATS

THIS IS AMAZING

LOVE IS REAL

Murphy

**Nice**

**is bellamy’s dick a bigger dick than him**

 

Wow. Oooookaay. How about we deal with all this later?

Bellamy comes in, while drying his hair, and shoots her a quizzical look.

“You good?”

“Yeah!” she exclaims, even though she actually feels like melodramatically shaking him by the shoulders and yelling “what are we?”

She ignores all the problems and grabs her coat and purse.

It doesn’t take them that long to walk to the café.

They banter and bicker as they usually do, and by the time they get to the café, Clarke feels a lot better.

When they get to the café, Bellamy holds the door open for her.

And then they walk in. And, well, fuck.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Octavia, Raven, Miller, Harper, Murphy, Jasper, Monty, Monroe and Raven are sitting at the counter, wearing giant shit-eating grins. Wells’s face is being displayed on Skype on Raven’s laptop.

Octavia’s holding a bouquet of red roses; Raven, Monty, Miller, and Jasper start singing “Here Comes The Bride”; Wells pretends to conduct them; Monroe and Harper set off party poppers and throw confetti; and Murphy just smirks and says “Well, well, well. Look what the kitty dragged in.”

Bellamy and Clarke just stand there in the doorway and exchange a mutual look of “What. The. Fuck.”

Octavia throws the roses at Clarke and Bellamy and exclaims loudly, “I’m so glad you two idiots finally got your shit together and accepted that you’re soulmates!”

“Woah!” Bellamy takes a step back.

Clarke finishes his thought. “You guys knew?”

Harper rolls her eyes. “Duh. It was pretty obvious. Come on, give us a little credit.” Jasper nods in agreement.

Clarke glares at computer-Wells. “Did you tell them?”

Computer-Wells shakes his head emphatically, eager to avoid the death-stare. “I actually didn’t. They knew before I did.”

Miller’s watching them carefully.

“Wait a second. You guys didn’t get your shit together, did you?”

Clarke purses her lip and avoids looking at their friends and Bellamy, who looks down very focused on the ground.

Monroe’s mouth falls open. “Oh. My. God.”

Monty yells, “Emergency! I’m closing the shop! You two get in the back and figure it out.”

Monty flips the sign on the door and Murphy, Miller, Octavia, and Raven drag Bellamy and Clarke into the closet in the back and lock them in there.

They didn’t even stand a chance.

Well, shit.

Bellamy smiles falsely at the door. “Don’t you just love our friends?”

Jasper yells, “Just so you remember, we can hear everything you’re saying!”

Clarke raises her eyebrows in the darkness of the closet.

Several hushed whispers later, he yells again, “But we’re totally definitely not listening!”

“Wow.” Clarke elongates the “o” sound.

Bellamy gives Clarke a wicked smile and moves closer to her.

“They want a show. How about we give them a show?” He whispers.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

A couple minutes later, they have their plans consolidated.

“Alright, go!” Bellamy instructs.

The first plan calls for them to make out passionately.

In hindsight, probably not their best plan.

She leans up on her tiptoes, wraps her arms around his neck, and, fuck it, kisses him.

It’s completely different than it ever was with Finn or Lexa.

Everyone always describes kisses in “sparks” or “fireworks”, but Clarke’s never really understood it.

Now she’d describe it as something far more…energetic. More passionate, more charged. More electrical than electricity, hotter than fire. Maybe like supernova level.

Wow, she  _is_ turning into a sap.

The world could end right now and Clarke probably wouldn’t give a fuck, because when she and Bellamy kiss, it feels like the planets have stopped moving.

His arms have found their way around her waist and he feels it too.

He stops their kiss and Clarke mourns the loss, even if it is just for a second.

“You’ve got to be louder than that, princess.” He whispers into her neck, nipping lightly.

She moans, only 24% faked.

Bellamy’s smirking at her.

The heat rushes into her cheeks. “You said loud!”

“Yeah, yeah, that was good! Keep going.”

She pulls a face at him and then pulls him back into the kiss, then moves down and leaves a hickey on his neck. This time, he moans. Very, very loudly.

She’s more than a little proud. As they resume kissing, she can hear their friends whispering.

As they come up for air, Clarke whispers, “I think we can do it now.”

Bellamy nods and unzips his jacket super loudly, so the zip can be heard outside.

Clarke waits, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, and then slaps her own hand placed on his cheek.

“You asshole!” She spits out angrily.

“How fucking dare you?”

“Me? You’re the one with the problem!” Bellamy yells back.

Clarke accidentally grins, but continues with the script.

“Fuck you! I’m going to murder you!”

They hear Murphy say, “Death threats are usually not a good sign.”

Bellamy grins, mouths “it’s working”, and screams back, “Hah! Like I’d ever fuck you. Keep your fantasies private!”

They hear Monroe say, “For an argument, it’s very sexually charged.”

“Fuck” Clarke mouths and she decides to improvise.

“I hate you! And I never want to see your face again! Go to hell!”

“Shit. We should let them out.” Octavia says.

Bellamy goes with it, “The feeling’s mutual! If I ever see you again, it’ll be too soon!”

The closet door unlocks really fast and opens cautiously.

Careful to stay in character, Clarke and Bellamy storm out of the closet, looking pissed and staying away from each other.

Clarke looks at her friends huddled in the back and says in her dangerously low "mom" voice that means business, “All of you. Out. Now!”

Her friends sheepishly shuffle into the front and Bellamy and Clarke follow them.

Once in the front, Bellamy and Clarke laugh and exchange a high five. “Hah! Got you!” Clarke grins.

Raven catches on and looks offended. “You two were just faking?”

“You bet Reyes, and now we’re kicking all of you out, Clarke and I have tips to rake in!”

Their friends are too surprised to protest as Clarke and Bellamy herd them out the door and flip the sign back to open.

Clarke enthuses, “Nice! We’re good!”

“They’re probably coming up with some other scheme, let’s be honest.” Bellamy laughs.

They settle back behind the counter, but before they can get too comfortable, a customer walks in and it’s time to work.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

May

Clarke’s pretty sure she’s going to go crazy. If she hasn’t already.

All those little things she noticed before? If they don’t add up to something bigger, Clarke is going to go nuts.

The eye contact, the inside jokes, the casual touches, the friendly competition, the occasional flirty and suggestive interaction, and most of all, how easy it is with Bellamy.

She thinks Bellamy reciprocates and feels the same way, like how could he not, but she’s also not sure.

Their relationship isn’t exactly…typical.

Clarke’s banging her head against the counter top when Niylah walks in.

She sits in front of Clarke and says, “Trust me that doesn’t work. It works way better with someone else’s head.”

Clarke looks up and laughs. “Volunteering yourself?”

“Not for my _head_ to be banged against the counter.” Niylah smiles suggestively.

Clarke considers it. Bellamy is kind of driving her crazy. She might as well flirt a little.

“Don’t worry, our customer service is excellent.” She winks. “What can I get you?”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Bellamy is sitting at the other end of the counter, watching Clarke flirt with Niylah.

He taps his fingers impatiently.

Was it just him then? Did Clarke not…did she not feel the same way?

Bellamy starts tapping his foot too.

Maybe he wasn’t obvious enough? Or maybe she just wasn’t interested?

He swishes his hair out of his eyes with his hand and huffs impatiently.

Fuck.

Clarke is really flirting with Niylah.

Fuck.

He doesn’t know what to think. Did he read all the signs wrong?

He’s usually really good at reading people. Even with Gina, he could tell what she was thinking or feeling.

But with Clarke, it’s harder.

No, no that’s a lie. It’s easier. But when it comes to her feelings about him, he doubts his intuition.

He sighs again.

Someone sits down at the counter and he looks up eagerly for a distraction.

“Oh." He looks back down.

"Lexa.”

“Your coffee is shit and so is your company.”

“Really feeling the love.”

Talking with Lexa is actually really fun, if slightly passive-aggressive, but contrary to the surface, he and Lexa actually get on really well. In their own weird little way. She gets him and he gets her, and it’s not rocket science.

Lexa watches Clarke flirt with Niylah and then looks back at him.

“So.” She waits.

“So?” He questions.

“What are you going to do?”

“I am going to ask you what drink you want and when you say they’re all shit, put together the shittiest, most expensive one I can and give it to you?” he guesses.

She glares at him. “What are you going to do about Clarke?”

“Why would I do anything about Clarke?”

She gives him the most irritated and shocked closed mouth expression he’s ever seen.

“Bellamy. You and Clarke are fucking soulmates.”

“Soulmates only matter if you choose to make it matter.”

“Well, you’re not going to know if you don’t try!”

He shrugs. “What’s the use? She’s obviously interested in Niylah. I don’t want to get in the way.”

Lexa gapes at him. “What’s the use? Are you fucking serious? Bellamy. Let me spell this out for you. Y-O-U-A, oh fuck it, you’re in love with her and she’s in love with you. When will you two fucking idiots get that in your heads?”

Bellamy furrows his brow. “I’m not in love with her.”

Lexa gives him a critical look.

Bellamy has to think about it. What does it even mean to be in love?

He’d do anything for her. Anything to protect her. Anything she needed.

Bellamy nods slowly. “Okay, maybe I’m a little in love with her.”

Lexa exhales. “Finally. Progress. Okay, so what are you going to do about it?”

He shrugs. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?” Lexa sounds like she’s about to explode. “My advice is utterly lost on you.”

“Appreciate it, but what am I supposed to do? I’m not going to pressure her into anything. Whenever she’s ready.”

“Did you ever think about asking her if she’s ready?”

Bellamy blinks really fast. Well, fuck.

Lexa gets up and leaves. “You are welcome. And I’m pretty sure _I_ should get a tip for this.”

Bellamy’s left there to think about the bomb she just dropped on him.

Well, _fuck_.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

As they’re closing up that night, Bellamy decides to ask Clarke about it.

About Niylah. Not the other thing. Yet.

“So you and Niylah, was it? You were looking pretty friendly.” He tries to say it casually, but he’s pretty sure he fails.

She turns her too-knowing gaze on him and shrugs. “Not really. It wasn’t anything serious or real. Just casual.”

Bellamy’s heart jumps.

“Oh. Cool.” He tries to remain nonchalant. What else can he say without sounding too interested?

Clarke drops her rag on the counter and turns to face Bellamy.

Bellamy raises an eyebrow, but drops his rag too and faces her.

They’re barely inches apart.

She lets out a cool breath and he can feel it on his skin.

“Bellamy. I want to say sorry. For everything I said in our blow up.”

She doesn’t need to specify which one.

“I’m sorry too. I said a lot of shit and none of it was okay.”

“Octavia told me you know. What happened that night.”

Bellamy didn’t actually. “Still doesn’t excuse what I said.”

Clarke nods.

“Aren’t you going to ask why I brought it up?”

Bellamy raises his eyebrows, amused.

“Why do you want me to ask why you brought it up?”

Clarke slaps his chest softly. “Shut up. Stop being difficult.”

“Never.” Then he grins and says, “Why?”

“Because I wanted to get it out of the way before I did this.” And with that, Clarke leans up and kisses him.

Bellamy’s brain freezes for a moment, then starts working again.

Kissing Clarke isn’t like kissing anyone else. Kissing Clarke is just more.

It’s one of those things you can’t describe, it’s just more.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

She steps back and waits, biting her lip.

“Does that clear things up?”

Bellamy gives her a trademark smirk.

“Wouldn’t mind a little more explanation.”

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos to anyone that figured out that Clarke's last line is inspired by The Lizzie Bennett Diaries


End file.
